October 1
Quick stop in San Sebastian to mingle with the hipsters and then off to Bilbao.

These are some pictures from where I ran this morning along with dozens of other runners who were also trying to maintain the fit, youthful look of which we have all become so fond.

Anyway, funny story. I rented a car (a Renault, in case you are ever making a list of cars never to buy) in San Sebastian. I left there headed for Bilbao. The drive was incredibly beautiful, and those who love me will be pleased to know that I neither took pictures nor shot video while I was driving over and through the mountains at 80 mph.

I kind of had an idea where I was, but not entirely, because all the signs are in Catalan, a language that uses a lot of "k"s, "x"s and "z"s, which pretty much makes the whole thing indecipherable unless you are a member of the club. Here's an example. If you can figure out what this says, please let me know.





I thought I would stop at a rest area in the mountains to figure out exactly how to get to my hotel in Bilbao and discovered that I didn't have the paper with the hotel name on it and that I couldn't connect to anything on my phone because I was in the mountains. 

This wasn't the problem. The problem was that when I decided just to head into Bilbao and improvise, I realized that I couldn't get my car into reverse. The shift knob definitely had a reverse on it, but every time I tried to get the car into that gear and lifted my foot off the clutch, it went forward. I had about 12 inches to test with before I would hit a wall and have to push the car backward so that I could keep testing. I tried pushing the knob, pulling the knob, twisting the knob, looking for levers or switches. I'm going to make a very long story short here by summarizing:
1. I swallowed my pride and actually called Avis customer service to ask them how to get the car into reverse, but I got voice mail because they were at their siesta for several more hours (ironically, a topic I wrote about yesterday)
2. I found the owner's manual, but it unfortunately went on for 200 pages in several languages about how to use the sound system, but nothing more.
3. I couldn't search on Google because I had no connectivity
4. I called Martha to ask her to do a search, but she was out doing a 5K

After a half hour of messing with the car, I finally lucked out into discovering that if you pull up on the boot covering the shift stick, you can shift into reverse. Why, why would anyone ever design a car that way without giving any indication of how to make it work?

Anyway, I was off to Bilbao, where I realized that just going into town and winging it was kind of like going into Manhattan and winging it. I helplessly went with the flow of whatever traffic I happened to find myself in, crossed the river several times, went around many traffic circles, and eventually parked illegally at a bus stop, pulled out my laptop, turned on my phone hotspot and opened the email that identified the name and address of my hotel. I also realized how incredibly fortunate I was to have my car struggle on the top of a mountain instead of in downtown Bilbao. And, last thing, I will never make fun of Google maps again. They saved me.

September 30

Today was 12 hours of cars, buses and trains to get from S’Aguro to San Sebastian. Since there is nothing tripwise to report, I’ll mention a few things I’ve noticed about Spain:



Good Job, Spain!

1. No Smoking - Even though many people here smoke, smoking is allowed almost nowhere. Even most of the beaches I’ve been on prohibit smoking. I have actually seen people on the beach leave the beach to smoke on the street and then come back to the beach.
2. Napkins on the floor – In the tapas bars in the north, it’s customary to throw one’s used napkins on the floor. This initially struck me as odd, but then I realized how brilliant this is because we walk on floors and eat at tables. For example, if you are about to sit at a table that has just been vacated by a family of 6 with three toddlers who just finished a dinner of crab dip, spaghetti with meatballs and vanilla pudding (of course, I have made this example culturally appropriate for Americans), would you rather have their used napkins go on your table or on the floor?
3. Defibrillators – There are public defibrillators everywhere. There have been at least a couple even in the smallest towns I have visited. I don’t know if any of them have ever saved someone’s life, but hey, “A” for effort.

Areas for Improvement

1. Old Clocks – The old towns I have stayed in have (probably centuries-old) clock towers that loudly chime every 15 minutes, 24 hours a day. I realize that there is some historical attachment to this, but (1) every single person I have seen over the last 14 days has a smartphone, so everyone always knows exactly what time it is, and (2) I would imagine that if I can’t sleep at 3:00 am, the last thing I want is to be loudly reminded that I’m still awake at 3:00 (and 3:15, 3:30, 3;45, etc.). So Spain, would you consider limiting the frequency and hours of operation?
2. Unsynchronized Clocks – In Girona, there are two very loud competing old clocks. That are about 25 seconds off from each other. So four times each hour, as soon as I had recovered from the disruption of one clock chiming, the other one went off. Being that this is Spain, I can only imagine that both clock owners would agree that synchronization is a good idea, but that they both think the other clock is the one that should change.
3. Hours of Operation – There is a very strong cultural institution of everything closing down for the afternoon siesta. That means that between 4:00 and 8:00 pm in anywhere but the large cities, it is literally impossible to get something to eat, whether in a small food store, supermarket or restaurant. Given the fact that the entire world is going to shit, Spain doesn’t have a functioning government and all of Catalonia is desperately trying to secede and form its own country, I do not think it would be that disruptive for a shop or two to buck tradition and stay open for a few extra hours. 

But all in all, good job, Spain!

Bike Ride - Day 5
Today I rode about 20 miles on the coastal road, which was part of the 2009 Tour de France. The people who rented me the bike wrote to me last night and said "make sure to have a good breakfast because tomorrow's ride is a stunner," which made me think that the views would be stunning. Which they were, but I think what they really meant was that the ride would stun my leg muscles, kind of like, I don't know, maybe a Taser.

The ride was indeed visually stunning. There was absolutely no level roadway for the entire ride; I was either going up a mountain or down a mountain, so it was also the other kind of stunning.

Even a dip in the ocean upon my return and a delightful lunch at a seaside cafe have only slightly reduced my hobbling. I think the pictures speak for themselves.

And a short video:

Bike Ride - Day 4
Today's ride took me about 25 miles down the Costa Brava, and to many beaches, some more accessible than others. There is a lot of zig-zagging on the route, which reflects 1 - times I thought I was lost but I wasn't, 2 - times I thought I wasn't lost, but I was, or 3 - paths toward the ocean that looked interesting.

This ride included gravel paths, trails through woods, residential areas and some pretty congested urban roads.

A few miles in, I got to ride on this path, which apparently used to be a tiny railroad that connected some of the coastal towns. It's been converted to a running/biking path that people who look just like us seem to use a lot.

This was a place on the coast I found after taking a few wrong turns, proving that "wrong" is sometimes in the eye of the beholder.I rode through several paths in the woods to get here, so there is zero chance of me ever showing you this spot.

And . . . a closer view.


I also stopped at many beaches, but we've all seen many beaches, so I will keep my photos of them to myself.

Here's some footage of the ride:

Once I got to my destination, I learned that the bike tour company had booked me at a four-star hotel on the beach in S'Aguro. I am sure that the other guests, who were well-dressed, drinking white wine and chatting at tables around the perfectly-manicured grounds and spotless blue-water pool were thrilled to have me weave through them with my bike, sweating, smelly and leaving a trail of dirt and the occasional granola-bar wrapper.

For some reason, the receptionist insisted on speaking to me only in broken English, which caused me to speak to her only in broken Spanish. It was kind of a weird conversation.

Still slightly overheated from my ride, I decided to go for a swim in the ocean, which turned out to be delightfully refreshing.

Between you and me, I am not really accustomed to staying in places of this caliber. But I am rapidly getting used to it, and am considering lodging a complaint with management about the fact that the view of the ocean from my private patio is partially obscured by this frosted glass..

Bike Ride - Day 3
For the third day of my bike ride, I decided to leave my bike in the garage and walk down to Sa Tuna beach on the Costa Brava and do nothing for a few hours. It has taken me eleven days to be willing to do nothing for a few hours, and I consider this a major accomplishment (I will refrain from making a joke about doing something to celebrate).

The beach is about 1 1/2 miles from where I'm staying. On the way, I passed two women in designer outfits standing next to their respective spotless BMW hatchbacks at the town's cardboard recycling bin, and I was reminded that the Costa Brava is not for the light of wallet. You can learn more about it here if you're interested.

I am actually slightly outside the most affluent area of the Costa Brava, but I'll be riding tomorow to where people tell me the other half live. I believe it is more like the other half percent.

Houses near the beach, and the beach:

Bike Ride - Day 2
Given how thoroughly I messed up yesterday's ride, which was short and on well-marked roads, today's ride held the potential for much disaster. But it went great. I rode from downtown Girona east to the Mediterranean.

This was done on a complex network of paved roads, gravel roads and paths that criss-cross this part of Spain and have been deemed somehow to be good for, how you say, ciclotourisme. And my goal here (planned in advance) was to ride through as many medieval towns as possible. Success on all counts, given the directions the bike rental place gave me coupled with the pretty good signs throughout the network.

This was my ride.

My ride started by going up and over Els Angels, which the locals here call a "hill." A couple of things to note here - 1. Girona is where the Tour de France cyclists train, and 2. Girona is real close to the Pyrenees. So yeah, to them, it's a "hill." But after seven miles of riding up this hill, which resulted in views like this, I thought, "Hill? I think not". And once I got to the top, I still had 30 miles to go.

                                                                                This was almost at the top of the "hill": Km 10. At the very top is an old monastery that I did not take the guided tour of.

There are no guardrails on Els Angels. Good thing nothing bad happened or I would have fallen 3,800 feet down to the bottom of the hill. Not to beat a dead horse, but if you're interested you can see actual athletes do this ride here.

Once I finished riding up the hill, I did get to visit quite a few medieval towns. To tell you the truth, they all look more or less the same but it was still a really nice bike ride.

     

These are two examples of how obvious, and how subtle, the bike path signs can be. It's like a treasure hunt.

And finally, a short video of some parts of the ride. Crops are all in, so the fields look a little empty.

I ended my day in Begur, which has what the realtors call "water views" rather than waterfront. I will be at waterfront in two days (after some more biking).

And from the top of the old Begur castle, I can see in the distance (I know this because there is a guide of the view) a tiny, tiny square on top of what looked like a small mountain, which is the monastery of Els Angels, where I did not stop for a tour this morning. 

Bike Ride - Day 1
On this first ride, which was by far the easiest to follow and shortest of all five days, I got significantly lost twice and  and slightly lost once. This despite having a Garmin, Google Maps, printed maps and turn-by-turn directions. My general approach to travelling, which involves glancing and maps and using them to guide me in a general direction, has failed me here. From now on, I follow the maps.

I was supposed to draw a circle here, but did not quite make it. To be fair to me, once I got to the point farthest north, I knew exactly where I was. But I had already ridden up a mountain once, and continuing around would have meant riding up the mountain again, which I preferred not to do.

I took this picture to mark the moment where I pretty much left my comfort zone, which felt kind of good.

To be fair to me, this was one of problems. Two towns, in different places on my circle, one called "Adri" and one called "Canet D Adri." I will pay more attention to details in the future.

I know this doesn't look like much, but it represents the moment when I figured out exactly where I was. 

All in all, I will call this first day a success, primarily because:

1. The first time I got lost, I was able to have a completely natural conversation in Spanish with a woman walking on the road in which I asked here where I was and where I needed to go. I had no problem understanding her when she told me that she was renting her house, has lived here only two days and has no idea where anything is.

2. The second person I asked for directions, several miles later, was a guy on a bicycle who told me there was an easier way up the mountain than what my map showed, and I eagerly followed his directions (which is why my route is not a nice circle).